


love in the dark or some shit

by dragonryder94



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blind Character, M/M, Mickey is out I guess, blind!Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonryder94/pseuds/dragonryder94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on a post on tumblr 'one half of your otp is blind and falls in love with other half's voice'</p>
            </blockquote>





	love in the dark or some shit

**Author's Note:**

> I deviated from the original prompt a little bit. Mostly cause they are just cutesy in this. Not actually falling in love. Whatever you'll see.

Mickey, or Mykola but don’t call him that, Milkovich was running late. His Russian Literature class started at 11:45. It was nearing noon. He was almost never late. His alarm hadn’t gone off when it should have, he spilled coffee on himself as he was leaving his dorm, and there were way too many bodies on campus for anyone to get anywhere on time.

He was thanking whatever higher power there was that Professor Goreshter was still outside the building having her pre lecture cigarette so he could slip in and have a few minutes to get his wits about him.

Their class wasn’t exactly popular. Who wants to study literature from one of the coldest and harshest countries in the world? It was the third week of classes and all the people who had decided whether to add or drop had finally done so, and there were about fifteen people left.

One of the newcomers who had only just added the class was sitting in Mickey's seat. Normally he wouldn’t care. He really wouldn’t. But today of all days, really? This giant ginger kid, who was wearing sunglasses indoors, was parked right in the first seat of the third row. That was Mickey's seat; it had been Mickey's seat since the first day of the semester and really, who the fuck wears sunglasses indoors anyway?

Gritting his teeth as he adjusted his backpack the shorter boy stalked up the row and stood next to the perpetrator. Ginger Kid didn’t even have the decency to look up at him. Okay well that shit was just _not_ going to fly.

Clearing his throat he snarked,

“Uh hey kid. You’re in my seat.” The redhead still wasn’t looking at him as he replied,

“Pretty sure the thing about college is that you don’t actually have assigned seats.” Nostrils flaring Mickey glared at the other boy with an intensity that would have made any other student quiver with fear as he growled,

“Yeah well there’s an unspoken rule that if someone’s been sitting in a seat since the beginning of the semester you don’t act like a fucking prick and just take it.” Ginger Kid shrugged and replied,

“Well the professor is going to come through the door in about three seconds so do you really wanna be arguing about it when she get here? I heard that she’s a hardass about people not being in their seats and ready to go as soon as she gets in the door.”

True to what Ginger Kid said Professor Goreshter came through the classroom door not even five seconds after he finished talking. How did he know that? Mickey glared at him once more as he lowered himself into his chair. As roll was called he observed the other boy and learned that his name was Ian Gallagher.

Jesus wasn’t that stereotypical? A redheaded kid with the name ‘Ian Gallagher’. He was probably full Irish too.

Mickey also noticed that there was no paper or pencils on Gallagher’s desk. Just a silver tape recorder with the record button pushed in. Which was weird because Professor Goreshter didn’t allow anyone to record her lectures. One kid had tried last semester by using one of those pens with a recording device in it and when she found out she destroyed him.

And the redhead was still wearing those stupid glasses. Why was he still wearing those stupid glasses? Mickey decided he would figure it out after lecture, because Goreshter had a thick accent and talked way too fast and if you weren’t paying attention then you missed half the lecture.

After the lecture was over Mickey was gathering up his books as Professor Goreshter called him up to her desk. She was an imposing woman, who had come from Russia in her early twenties and then had spent the next fifteen years gaining citizenship and earning her doctorate in Literature.

And to be honest she was more than a little terrifying so if she wanted to have a one on one conference with you, you went.

As she looked him over she arched one perfectly shaped brow and said,

“You will help Mr. Gallagher this semester. No questions.” Making a face Mickey looked from his professor to the redhead leaning against his desk.

“Uh yeah, that isn’t gonna happen.” Clucking her tongue Goreshter started putting her notes away as she said,

“Would be a shame to fail such a promising student. All those assignments you’re going to hand in somehow getting lost. Such a shame. Don’t you think Ian?” Gallagher had the audacity to smirk and nod at what the professor said. Mouth dropping open the shorter boy said incredulously,

“Are you fucking blackmailing me right now?” She held her hands up and replied,

“Maybe yes. Maybe no. Depends on what you say next.” Mickey threw his hands up in the air and growled,

“Fine! Fine. You are the worst. And you! Firecrotch, let’s go. If I’m helping you then we’re making a schedule for studying and the papers right now.”

Ian smiled and pulled a short stick out of his pocket and let it fall, a cane unfolding and snapping into place. And that was when Mickey started to feel really dumb. That was why he was wearing sunglasses. And why he wouldn’t look directly at the other boy when he was talking. Ian was blind and Mickey had been treating him like crap all day. Great.

As they walked down the hallway, the quiet tapping of Ian's cane the only sound between them, Mickey scratched the back of his neck as he frantically tried to figure out what he could say that would possibly salvage this situation. Taking a breath he started,

“So I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t realize that you’re uh. You’re like--” Ian sighed and turned in his direction as he said,

“No man, don’t do that.” Opening the door and holding it for the other boy Mickey said,

“Don’t do what?” The redhead kept moving the cane back and forth and was silent for a moment before continuing,

“Ever since I was little whenever I would meet someone new and they would find out that I’m blind they would start treating me like I’m fragile. Back there at the beginning of class you talked to me like I’m a normal person. Don’t change that just because you know I can’t see now.”  Mickey nodded even though he knew that Ian couldn’t see it and replied,

“You got a deal.” They walked in silence for a moment longer before the shorter boy punched the redhead on the shoulder and growled playfully,

“But if you sit in my seat again we’ll have a problem, got it?”

\-----

The months passed by quickly and soon snow was starting to fall, covering the campus in a downy, white blanket. Over the three months Mickey and Ian became friends to such a degree that they were nearly inseparable. Which was nice for Mickey, because Ian was not only hilarious and kind and a great study partner, but he was also ridiculously attractive.

A plus to having a blind best friend who also happens to be your optimum boyfriend was that if Mickey was ever staring at Ian, which happened more then he would admit if asked, there was no awkward eye contact if the redhead looked the other way.

How the redhead managed to workout despite his condition was beyond Mickey. Ian had explained that when he still lived at home he could run with his seeing eye dog, Rex, but at the college it would have been too much of a hassle to have him.

So that was how Mickey got roped into going to the college gym every few days and helping Ian with his workout, including but not limited to things such as handing him clothes as he got changed, helping him get the right weights and helping him when he wanted to use the equipment. None of which really helped the whole ‘try not to fall for your best friend’ thing he had going on.

They were getting ready to walk out of the gym one day and Ian was rummaging through his bag trying to find his cane when he cursed,

“Goddammit. I _know_ it’s in here. I was using it earlier. Where the hell could it have gone?” Mickey pulled the bag out of the redhead’s hands and started looking around. It was getting dark, and cold, and he would so much rather be in his warm dorm room then outside in the freezing cold. Sighing he zipped the bag and handed it back to Ian saying,

“Whatever man. I’ll just lead you back. It’s way too cold to be standing out here looking for the stupid thing. Here.” He threaded his arm through the redhead’s and started walking, taking care to watch out for icy patches on the sidewalk.

And well if anyone asked him then could he really deny that walking arm in arm with his best friend/crush on the streetlamp illuminated path as it started to lightly snow was anything less than perfect? He tried to be inconspicuous about it as he leaned into Ian's side more; the kid was a 6’5 wall of solid heat and it was freaking cold out, plus he smelled really good.

He could feel the redhead ‘look’ down at him and was silently praying that the other boy would say nothing. Ian seemed to sense this and indeed said nothing, simply tightened his hold on Mickey's arm and said,

“We can go back to mine if you want. Get a head start on Goreshter’s analysis of _Doctor Zhivago._ Plus I need some help on my Calculus homework.” The shorter boy barked a laugh and replied,

“Jesus Gallagher how did you ever pass a math class without me to help you?” Ian shrugged and the continued in silence, just their quiet breathing filling the space between them as Mickey guided them into the dorm building and to Ian's room.

One of his ‘handicapped privileges’ as some of the other asshole students liked to call it was that the redhead got his own dorm room with its own bathroom and small kitchenette on the first floor. A right that was usually reserved for the upperclassmen.

Mickey opened the door and flicked the light on, letting Ian's arm go in the process. The redhead had his room set up and memorized just so and he could move around freely without Mickey's help.

After they took off some of their layers and were arranging themselves into a comfortable position on the couch Ian took off his sunglasses.

Mickey could count the amount of times he had seen the redhead without his glasses on one hand. He knew that Gallagher had green eyes, like the typical Irish boy he was, but he also knew that Ian was uncomfortable having most people see his eyes.

They couldn’t focus on anything and even though he would look in a person’s general direction, sometimes even directly at them, his eyes were blank and they made people uncomfortable. And when people got uncomfortable around Ian they tended to insert both of their feet right in their mouth. But it warmed the depth of Mickey's heart to know that Ian was comfortable enough around him that he didn’t feel the need to wear his glasses if they were by themselves.

Biting his lip slightly Mickey took a breath and said,

“Hey man. I know I’ve never asked you and you don’t have to answer or anything but have you always been…you know, blind?” Ian smirked slightly and looked in his direction before replying,

“It’s not like it’s a taboo question. I was surprised that you hadn’t asked me sooner. But no, I wasn’t always blind. I started losing my sight when I was around eight years old. First it was just blurry vision. But then it kept getting worse. So they took me to the doctor and I got some tests and MRIs done. All the fun stuff, you know. I had a tumor pressing on where the optic nerve connects with my brain. It’s still there. Benign, so not that big of a deal, but it kinda sucks that a ball of cells that couldn’t hurt me in any other way cost me my sight.”

Mickey made a face and said,

“Damn. I didn’t realize that was even a way to become blind. Must’ve been really scary. Especially since you were so little.” Ian shrugged and replied,

“You learn to deal. It’s not so bad I guess. At least I have memories. I know what colors are. I remember what some things look like. That’s a lot more then what some other people have.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, both in their own worlds until Ian said,

“And hey, you got to ask something strange so now it’s my turn. You can see. You see me. So what do you look like?” Mickey laughed. Of course the redhead would want to know what he looked like. Rubbing his bottom lip he looked himself over and started,

“Well I’m a lot shorter then you, but you already know that. Uh, I’ve got black hair. Blue eyes. Skin that burns if I’m in the sun for longer than fifteen minutes. Nothing too exciting really.” Gallagher snorted and turned so that he was sitting cross legged in front of Mickey and replied,

“I’ll be the judge of that.” His hands came up slowly and trailed up the other boy’s arms. When he reached Mickey's shoulders he looked slightly self conscious as he asked lowly,

“Okay?” The other boy nodded, but then realized that Ian couldn’t see it so he let out a soft,

“Yeah, okay.” Gallagher smiled softly and his eyes were staring somewhere in the area of Mickey's chin as his hands traveled up over his face. Starting at his forehead the ginger made soft sweeping motions across his skin, over his brow bone and eyebrows, then over his eyelids and the apples of his cheeks. He followed the slope of Mickey's nose and then went back down his lower cheeks to cup his chin.

Fingers lightly traced his lips last, first going around the outline of his mouth and then rubbing over them slowly. Ian's finger stopped there and Mickey opened his eyes to see what the other boy was going to do next.

The redhead looked like he was having some kind of horrible internal debate and Mickey decided he was going to throw him a life preserver as he whispered,

“Hey kid, here’s a tip. If you’re going to kiss someone, just fucking kiss them.” Ian grinned at him and one of his hands reached around to pull Mickey closer by his shoulder as their lips connected.

It was by far one of the most G-rated kisses Mickey had ever shared with someone in his life, but it was also one of the most perfect.

His eyes had closed but he somehow knew that when he opened them he would find himself staring into Ian's. The redhead was grinning like he had just found a winning lottery ticket on the sidewalk and Mickey felt the same way but he had to keep his cool.

Leaning back he took one of Ian's hands in his own and said playfully,

“Don’t think that this wins you those points back from when you stole my chair. You’re still on my list kid.” Ian laughed and replied,

“Of course Mick. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”   

 

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you thought! stalk me at second-rate-handjobs.tumblr.com please


End file.
